Even Now
by AllycatFelton
Summary: First person perspective as Draco looks back on his life with Hermione.


This fic was inspired by the song "Even Now" by Dashboard Confessional… If you want to listen to this song, which I highly recommend, I think it will put you in the right 'zone' for this story lol. You can hear it here: .com/watch?v=gphK88tQ5sY.

Summary: This is the edited version for this website to abide by the rules. If you want the whole story and you are over 18 you can read it at AFF or grangerenchanted. 1st person perspective as Draco looks back on his life. With each group of lyrics it's a new story, hopefully it's not too confusing.

Warnings: Smut and some naughty words.

Disclaimer: JKR owns the characters and the magical world, I am just playing with them. Dashboard Confessional owns the Even Now song lyrics, and there are some other lyrics used and I don't know who owns them, I just know that it is not me.

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"I'm so sorry for your loss," they all say to me, over and over… day after day. I just don't understand. It is the way of the world, and we are part of this world like any other. _We_ still are… I'm sure of it. I know it's silly, but it's so hard to believe she is gone when I can feel her all around me.

She is everywhere.

She is in our children. Our kids have grown and left the nest, following in our footsteps and making their own marks upon the wizarding world. She is there in the way Sophia meticulously organizes her study—alphabetically of course—just like her mother. She is there when our youngest grandchild, Ava, raises her hand at the dinner table, straining in her seat to ask to be excused. She is even there in our house-elves, who all wear a variety of knit hats and have three weeks paid vacation.

But mostly, she is in me.

The way I feel inclined to smile at all who pass, and the way they smile back—that is Hermione. She taught me that the world wasn't an evil place. She brought me off of my lonely throne, and back down to Earth, where I eventually felt I belonged. That was her too. She made me feel like I was a part of something grand… something magical that went beyond the blood in our veins and the cores in our wands.

Love.

I love her and I always will. While the passersby may be sorry for my loss, I am only sorry that they will never feel the deep love that I have found with my Hermione.

I say have, not had. I am still in love. It will never fade like the setting sun or evaporate like the morning dew. How could it when every thing I see brings back memories of our beautiful life together?

**Even now, I can smell your clothes**

**Freshly from the wash**

**Still hot from the dryer**

There was a crash, and I rushed down the hall and into our master bedroom. I almost internally panicked when I didn't see her, but the voices from the walk-in closet let me know she was all right. I breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling softly and shaking my head.

"I am perfectly capable of hanging up my own clothes!"

"Misses needs to let Dotty do it!"

"_I_ can do it!"

"This is not Misses's job, this is Dotty's!"

I wondered how long I should let them go at it. Hermione wasn't used to having servants—that much was certain. Unlike most witches, however, she wasn't enjoying it. She moved in with me the week before, and was still unpacking, even though the job could have been done in a day if she would just allow the house-elves to help her. I was lucky_ I _even got to help her, with her being so strong-willed. I couldn't complain though. Her quirks made her _her_… and I **loved** her.

So much it hurt.

I decided to take pity on my love… and my house-elf. I stepped in to the closet, and watched as they battled over the hamper that was full to the brim with freshly laundered clothing waiting to be hung up.

"Hem hem," I coughed into my hand, smirking as I thought of the evil witch I was imitating, and how many times my Hermione had gotten the best of her. I must have startled them more than I intended, because the clothes went flying and they practically jumped out of their skin.

"Dotty is so sorry! Dotty will pick—"

"Dotty won't do anything, I can do—"

"No this is Dotty's fault, Dotty will—"

"Enough! Dotty, please, if Hermione wants to do it, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't argue with her," I said, trying to sound stern, but the hilarity of the situation made it hard. Dotty bowed to me and skipped off, probably to find another chore to do before Hermione could try and stop her.

"You don't need to be mean to her, Draco. She was only trying to help," Hermione reprimanded me. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from retaliating, and instead kneeled down to start picking up the clothing that was strewn over the floor. It smelled faintly of lavender, and I brought an article to my face and just breathed it in, letting the fragrance intoxicate my lungs.

Suddenly, a pair of silk boxers smacked me in the face. I picked them up and held them out in front of me, while Hermione shot me a guilty expression.

"I don't know how to fold your fancy man-knickers," she explained, wearing an innocent smile and shrugging her shoulders.

"'_Fancy man-knickers'!?_" I asked indignantly. "_These_ are not fancy man-knickers." I flung them over my shoulder and searched the pile of clothes. "Aha!" I said when I found what I was looking for: a sexy pair of black lace panties that belonged to Hermione. "These, on the other hand, are _very_ fancy man-knickers."

I stood and held them up to my groin, trying to keep a straight face. "Tisk, tisk… It looks like they shrank in the dryer. I'll have to try them on and make sure they still fit."

She let out a snort of laughter, but when I didn't join in, her eyes widened in disbelief. "You wouldn't."

I only smirked, holding eye contact with her as I undid my belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and let them fall to the floor. I then pulled the waistband of my boxer shorts carefully over my penis—I was sporting a sizeable semi-erection at that point—and they joined my pants on the floor, where I stepped out of them and pushed the pile away with my foot.

I saw her mouth fall open as I lowered the panties and lifted one leg to put them on. She froze. I froze. My eyes met hers and she silently dared me to continue, as I silently dared her to stop me. I was goading her and she knew it… It was a game… we were always playing in our minds. The want, the need, the hunger, the thrill, the taboo, the pure and unrestrained _need_ that drew us to each other with such a force we were powerless to resist.

I could see the heat practically smoldering in her dark eyes. My breath hitched in my throat. I didn't know when we had switched from messing around to wanting to fuck each other senseless, but the change had definitely occurred.

Fuck I loved her. Fuck I fucking loved how anything and everything made me so incredibly horny for her… even something as silly as threatening to wear her knickers. The second I saw her eyeing my cock I could see the desire etched across every inch of her face, and it made me crave her—made me fucking _ache_ with thirst and hunger and desire to give her what I knew she wanted almost as badly as I did.

She licked her lips and pulled them between her teeth. My semi throbbed into a raging hard-on and a low groan left my parted lips. How easily she turned my body—skin, muscle, bones, hair, organs, blood, _everything_—into a panting wad of jelly with eyes only for her and a cock oozing with pre-come, wishing nothing more than to spear her into the floor and ravage her until she couldn't walk.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and my mind went blank. I could no longer remember why I stood there, holding her black panties out in front of me, naked from the waist down. The only thing I could think about was my cock diving between her sweet little pussy lips… But she was still on the floor… still staring at me… still waiting to see if I'd actually pull the lace garment up my legs…

My eyes narrowed and my smirk widened as I stepped in to one side of her knickers… Up they went, one, two, three inches…

Then she sprang, lunging at me and grabbing me around the shins, making us both topple to the ground…

Things quickly escalated from there…

…30 minutes later…

"I think these clothes will need to be washed again," Hermione said as she crawled up my torso and flopped unceremoniously into the crook of my arm. I raised my head and looked around at the mess of clothes thrown haphazardly over the floor, others stuck underneath us.

"Then I suppose it won't matter if I do _this_…" I replied, swiftly moving to hulk over her with one hand pinning her arms above her head.

"But we… you just—"

"I'm not a hundred years old." Before she could retort I swooped down for a kiss while my other hand snaked its way between her legs, effectively taking her breath away and rendering her speechless…

…By the time I was finished, I had her so exhausted and sated that she didn't even argue when Dotty came to collect the clothes to be cleaned for the second time that day. I think she may have even let the elf hang them up after all.

That was over seventy years ago, and my laundry still smells of lavender… only now it's _her_ that I breathe in with every batch of freshly washed clothes.

**Even now, I can smell your skin**

**As I wrap you in a towel**

**Lay you on the bed**

**And try to love you**

"Can I come in?" I called out through the bathroom door.

"Yes," my darling replied sweetly. I entered and sat down on the side of the tub, cursing the bubbles that covered her more _delicious_ parts.

"Feeling any better?" I asked her. She had a cold. Nothing serious, but I knew how frustrating it was to not be able to breathe out of your nose. I had filled her a bath and forced her into it, saying that the warm water would hopefully clear her nasal passages. The bright smile she shot me on her flushed face said that it had worked.

"I think I am," she answered, sniffing her nose to show me how she could breathe out of it. "It's getting cold in here though," she continued. Somehow, I missed the way her eyes sparkled mischievously as she said this.

"That's impossible, the tub is charmed to stay at the perfect temperature. I don't—"

"No, Draco," she interrupted me. This time, I didn't miss the way she practically purred when she spoke, and how her eyes had become dark with lust. "It's cold _and_ lonely…" she trailed off, running her wet fingers along my upper thigh, soaking my pants.

I couldn't get my clothing off quick enough as I fought with the buttons of my shirt and the belt on my pants. Hermione tried to help, becoming frustrated when her slick fingers slid on the zipper, and resorting to ripping and tugging at the expense of my designer slacks.

She pulled me into the bath—I was still wearing my socks—and crashed her lips against mine. I returned the kiss with equal vigor, tasting a hint of a cough drop in her sweet mouth. My tongue pushed as far into her as it could, while my hands trailed down the gentle curve of her neck and across her smooth breasts.

…20 minutes later…

It took a long time to find the strength to move off of her and out of the water, but my fingers and toes would soon be wrinkled if I didn't, and I hated that. I rose and stepped out, extending my hand to my love and yanking her up as well. Grabbing a towel, I dried her from head to toe, before wrapping it snuggly around her.

She moved to step away and the towel opened slightly, revealing just a hint of the jewel between her legs. I could feel the blood return to my groin.

Without further ado, I scooped her up into my arms and ran for the bed, plopping her unceremoniously on the velvet comforter. I quickly ripped open her towel, wondering why I had chosen to cover her in the first place. She shrieked and backed up towards the headboard, but I only smirked and grabbed her legs, pulling her back to me and spreading them wide in the process.

"But Draco, we just—" she tried to object. Why was she always trying to fight the inevitable? You'd think she'd have learned her lesson by now.

"All that fucking made me hungry, love…" I growled, diving into her sweet center with my tongue before she even knew what I was doing. It didn't take long for her cries of protest to be replaced with shrieks of delight…

I chuckle as I think of how many times we made love over the course of our lives. Once was never enough. Even with screaming babies and demanding work-schedules, we always found time for our urges. When our skin became wrinkled and started to sag, my pull to her was just as strong as before, if not stronger. Our grandchildren thought it was 'gross' when we even brought our lips together and let our tongues dance…

If they only knew…

**Even now, I can feel your arms**

**I can feel your breast**

**I can hear your songs**

**And I always can find you again**

I was more nervous than I could ever remember being. Hermione's Muggle mother and father were sitting at the dining table of my manor home, directly across from my pure-blooded parents, who were known for their hatred of Muggles. To say the silence was deafening was an understatement. You could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife.

"So umm… nice place you got here," Mr. Granger had said after five minutes of the uncomfortable silence.

"Thank you," replied my mother curtly. The silence then returned with a vengeance. Hermione kept shooting me odd glances out of the corner of her eye, probably wondering why I was subjecting them to the torturous evening.

I decided that there was no time like the present to make my objective known. I stood from the table and cleared my throat in my hand.

"Well, I'm sure you're all wondering why I've asked you here this evening," I started, sweat beading on my forehead and down the back of my neck. I hoped I had remembered a deodorizing charm.

I shook my head to try and concentrate solely on what I was about to do. I walked over to Hermione, kneeling beside her chair. Her eyes got wide when she realized what my intentions were and she squealed like an excited little girl.

"Hermione, I love you more than words can say. If you would accept this ring and be my wife it would make me the happiest man in the galaxy. Will you marry—"

"YES! Oh yes I will Draco of course I will!" she cried, leaping off her chair and into my arms, making us both tumble to the floor in a heap. Forgetting that our parents were watching, she slammed her lips into mine, her hands tangling in my hair. Our tongues battled for control and I slid my hand down to cup her arse before a cough brought us back to the present. We stilled, guiltily looking around at the horrified occupants of the table.

"Well… at least we don't have to worry about grandchildren," Mrs. Granger shrugged.

Even my parents laughed… Well, they chuckled in what they thought was a dignified manner. The rest of the meal went by much easier, all because my Hermione and I couldn't keep our hands off each other.

Now, when I sit at the dining table alone, I have the image of her accepting my proposal to keep me company.

**Even now, I can feel your hand**

**Gently over mine**

**With almost no weight at all**

I could see her walking down the isle.

Finally.

It felt like it took her ages as she gradually moved towards me to the beat of the music. I cursed the band under my breath for playing so slowly. They needed to hurry before she changed her mind! I knew that at any moment she could realize just whom she was about to marry and hightail her arse out of there.

When she reached me, I felt all the air leave my lungs. I was drowning in my own happiness, and she was the oxygen I needed to survive. I couldn't live if she wouldn't be mine. I couldn't live without her. But what if she said no?

I had a moment of panic before she reached me, looking stunningly beautiful and beaming with a smile that warmed me from the inside out. She slipped her hand in mine—so light and delicate—and I returned the smile.

I knew she would be mine forever.

And she was… and she is. I spin the smooth metal on my finger as I think of the moment I gained the piece of jewelry, the moment that bound me to my soul mate. She still has my heart, and I know that she knows it. She'd even convinced me to have Potter be my best man, how could she not?

**Even now, I can feel your eyes**

**Watch me as I strum**

**Much too late at night**

"This is the last one. Even if I wasn't out of pee—which I am—it's one in the morning and I need to sleep!" Hermione snapped at me. She sounded annoyed, but I knew she was just as excited as I was. We had been trying to get pregnant for months, several times a day to be exact. Not that I was complaining, but that was a lot of perfectly good sperm! There had been so many negative tests that I just couldn't believe the five positive ones that sat in a line along the bathroom counter.

"You're watching," she said, one hand between her legs while she sat on the toilet. "I can't do it with you watching!"

I rolled my eyes and turned around, tapping my foot impatiently.

"I can't do it with you listening, either," she added. I thought about refusing for a second before I stormed moodily from the room, settling on the bed and fisting my hands in my hair.

After four minutes she emerged, smiling apologetically at me while I glared at her half-heartedly. She slowly approached me with her hands behind her back, presumably holding the pregnancy test. Her brown eyes were glistening with soon-to-be-shed tears as she moved to stand in front of me. I could never stay mad at her.

"Hold out your hand," she ordered. I did as I was told, biting my tongue to keep from spouting my thoughts on the fact that I could hold her pee but couldn't watch her make it.

The words along the top were clearly written in neat cursive; "You're pregnant."

We were having a baby.

I wrapped my arms around her slim waist, and pulling her close, I cried.

Though we repeated that process six more times in our lives, it never ceased to amaze me that we could create a brand new life out of nothing. Each one of our children felt like such amazing miracles, and I grew up in a world where unicorns and fairies exist! But somehow, our babies seemed more magical to me than all of it put together.

**Even now, I can see you smile**

**I can hear you hum**

**I can hear you sing**

**And I always can find you again**

There was music ringing off the walls and echoing along the corridors, but I couldn't find where it was coming from. I searched and searched, coming up empty in every room. Just when I thought it was getting louder, I would turn a corner and not be able to hear it at all.

"Dotty!" I shouted into the air. With a crack like a whip, the little elf was standing in front of me.

"Yes, Draco sir?" she asked in her squeaky voice.

"Where is Hermione?"

"On the balcony, sir, with the young masters."

I smirked and thanked the elf. Of course she was on the balcony, it was the one place I hadn't searched in all twenty thousand square feet of the manor.

When I got closer I could finally make out the words she sang to our twin sons.

" '_I'll love you forever, I'll love you for always. Always and forever, my babies you'll be…' _"

Dotty still sings that song. I don't think she knows all the words, but sometimes I catch snippets of it as she hangs the clothes or washes the dishes. Every time I hear it I picture Hermione with our babies, swaying gently as the breeze bustles her bushy hair…

**Even in the dark of night**

**Even in the lowest light**

**Even as the world outside**

**Is spinning and spinning**

It rained for two weeks after my parents died. I was so nervous no one would endure it to attend the funeral of two people who didn't really have close friends. They had numerous acquaintances, and they had me, Hermione, and their grandchildren. They cared so much about keeping up appearances… I couldn't let them be humiliated with an empty funeral… I just couldn't… But what could I do?

A soft tug on my pant leg broke me out of my thoughts. "Daddy, is it true that Grandma and Grandpa are going to take a ride on a train and never come back?" asked our fourth-born, Seraphina. I let my hand fall to the child's head and ran my fingers through her wild, blonde curls, closing my eyes to compose myself before I knelt down to be at her level.

"Who told you that, love?"

"Uncle Harry. He said that they went to King's Cross and picked a train to take them anywhere they wanted and only they got to go on it together… But I said that was impossible 'cause they always kiss me goodbye and they kiss my stuffy Lulu goodbye and even my brothers get kisses but they like kissing me better 'cause they told me so!"

My heart shattered into a million tiny fragments as I looked into the pale blue eyes of my little girl—so wide and innocent—and I found myself blinking and swallowing repeatedly to stem the sudden flow of emotions. As it was, my voice came out hoarse and shaky when I tried to reply.

"Sera, Grandma and Grandpa had to leave in a hurry or they would've missed their train," I explained. "But they told me to give you these." I grabbed her shoulders so she couldn't escape, and scattered light kisses all over her rosy cheeks, her forehead, her button nose and her chin, until she was giggling and squirming to escape.

"Daddy stop! You have to save some for Lulu!" she squealed. I smiled sadly and let her lead me to her room, where Lulu the stuffed unicorn lay in the center of her bed. She rushed to the bed as fast as her four-year-old legs would carry her, grabbed the unicorn and handed it up to me. I took it and planted a loud kiss right on the tip of its furry nose.

She laughed and yelled out, "More, Daddy. More!"

Just then, Hermione appeared in the doorway.

"Everyone is here," she said softly. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she'd only just stopped crying, and she looked frail and tired. "It's time to go out, come on Sera."

Sera grabbed my hand and tugged. "Come on Daddy, everyone's here!" she exclaimed matter-of-factly. I followed her into the hallway, where she placed her other hand in Hermione's.

"Mum, why is everyone here?" she asked, blowing her curly blonde hair out of her eyes since her hands were in both of ours.

"To say goodbye to your grandparents," Hermione replied.

"But how will they hear us if they're already on their train?" Hermione shot me a questioning glance. It was my cue to answer.

"You know how sometimes grown-up wizards send messages to anywhere in world?"

"Yes. With their Paturnoses," she said smartly. Was she really only four?

I smiled and said, "Correct. And everyone came to our house to send them one last Patronus."

"But what shape will it be if everyone does it together?" she asked.

"What shape do you want it to be?"

"A unicorn," she replied instantly, suddenly excited. " 'Cause I bet it would be the biggest one ever!"

"I think your grandparents would like that, Sera," Hermione choked out, her voice shaking as she tried not to cry. Our little girl smiled up at us, her mouth full of tiny spaces between her tiny baby teeth. Hermione and I had to look away; her eyes had become wet again, and I had to fight hard to keep from joining her. I needed to stay strong. I couldn't cry, Father would not approve.

We had arrived at the doors that would lead us to the garden, which would take us to the far edge of the property where the Malfoy family cemetery rested along a gentle stream. The rain came down in sheets and the wind blew fiercely, whipping tree branches every which way.

Thunder clapped deafeningly, and Sera's tiny hand squeezed my own. I looked up at the angry grey sky and my stomach sank. I didn't know a single witch or wizard who would brave this storm for my parents.

I searched around for an umbrella but Hermione shook her head and stepped outside. I was about to stop her, but before I could, I realized that she remained dry. It didn't make sense. I could see the rain pouring down!

I took a step towards her and stared up in amazement. It was like a large piece of glass floated over us, shielding us from the rain. Sera was utterly unimpressed, just like she was with most things magical. Growing up in the wizarding world, she simply accepted the strange and unnatural as the norm. I reached my hand out to the side, and could feel the cold rain splatter my skin. As we moved onward, I realized that the entire pathway was protected from the rain by the magical floating glass. I looked at Hermione, and she smiled kindly at me.

"How?" I asked her weakly.

"Last night. Harry and I conjured it and spelled it to float along the paths from the house and the Apparition point."

I didn't know when she'd found the time. She planned the entire funeral and invited all the guests. I had done nothing but sulk around the house, doing my best to hide from everyone and everything. She'd taken care of the things that should have been my responsibility as the only child, and she'd done it better than I ever could have.

We reached the wrought iron gate that surrounded the cemetery, still perfectly dry. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. It was like a sea of black wizard robes had invaded the small space. Every member of high society had come, even the Minister of Magic. It was a funeral my parents would have been proud to call their own… and I had done nothing.

I had done nothing. The thought haunted me throughout the ceremony, throughout the dinner that followed, and throughout the condolences and goodbyes as the guests Apparated away. Until it was just me and Hermione in our bedroom, our children all safely tucked in to their beds.

I opened a bottle of wine, but it had not done the trick. Not like fire-whiskey. Fire-whiskey burned as it inched its way down your throat, and I wanted to burn. I wanted to drink until the burn took away the pain I felt in my heart, even if my whole body had to catch fire to do so. I had failed my parents. I had failed them.

I had failed them.

Hermione had saved the day, and I had failed.

My head swam as the alcohol took its toll. I hurt so bad. I wanted to scream, to lash out at someone and take away some of my anger, and pain, and hurt, and frustration. But all I could do was wallow on the fact that I had failed my parents, and now they were dead and I could do nothing to rectify my failure.

Nothing. I had done nothing, and now I could_ do_ nothing.

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom and walked towards where I sat on one of the chairs in our little sitting area by the window, still watching the rain come down.

"Are you coming to bed?" she asked softly. I took a long drink from the bottle of fire-whiskey, relishing the hot, fiery burn.

And suddenly, I was angry.

"No," I said. My voice was harsh and cold, and I could see the hurt in her eyes but I forced myself not to care. I didn't want to care about anything anymore. Caring had caused this pain—this incessant, unrelenting pain.

"Oh… All right," she replied, turning to leave.

"All right? All right!? Nothing is all right, Hermione! My parents are dead! DEAD!"

The rage, the anger, the hurt, the pain—all came out at the one person who deserved it the least. I knew this, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop. I had failed them.

"You can't just fix everything all the time! You can't just swish your wand and make everything better! Not every time and definitely not this time!" I screamed, standing up and taking a step towards her. She stood her ground, though I was sure I was frightening her. My palms were sweaty. My face felt hot. My throat burned dully. All I could think of was my failure.

"But Draco I—they—I mean, they would have wanted people to be at—"

"THE LAST THING THEY WOULD HAVE WANTED WAS SOME MU—"

She gasped, her eyes wide with horror and shock. I moved to her but she backed away, tears clouding her eyes and silently falling down her cheeks. The pain that I had let out by screaming returned with a vengeance.

"Muggle-born… I was going to say Muggle-born," I choked out. I was, wasn't I? Oh God, what had I done?

She turned and fled but I ran after her, finally catching up when she struggled to pull open the heavy front door.

"No, I'm leaving. You stay." I pushed her gently away from the door and ran as fast as I could, as far away as my legs would take me. I could hardly feel the sharp sting of the cold rain as it pelted my skin; nothing could mask the pain in my chest. I ran until my legs gave out and my lungs screamed. The cold rain mingled with hot tears on my cheeks, and I fell to my knees, crying out into the night.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" I yelled into the cruel night air, rain filling my mouth. But I was beyond caring. Not only had I failed my parents, I had failed Hermione. The one person I loved with all my heart; who loved me in return. I didn't deserve her. I didn't… I was inadequate to love. Every time I failed, she was there to pick up the pieces and make it all right again. I needed her. I loved her so much. What the hell was wrong with me!? Why was I pushing her away when I needed her more than the air I breathed or the water I drank?

How many times would she forgive me?

I don't know how long I sat there, kneeling on the soggy ground while sobs wracked my entire body, I just know that at some point I was able feel the freezing rain. I was so cold, and the hole in my heart from when my parents had died paled in comparison to the complete loss of the beating organ at the thought that I could lose Hermione. I would see my parents again in the next life, and they wouldn't want me to ruin my chances at happiness in this one.

I slowly stood and trudged my way back towards the manor. The rain had turned to sleet without me even realizing it, and my body was numb from the cold. My hair stuck to my forehead with frozen ice-crystals. It felt like it took ages to get back inside. I hadn't realized I'd gone so far.

When I finally walked through the double doors, my clothes were partially frozen and they crunched with every step. I left a wet trail all the way to our bedroom where Hermione was curled on the bed. Half a dozen used tissues littered the floor and she was still sniffling. The empty hole where my heart used to be thudded rabidly against my ribcage as I walked towards her. She looked up at me, the pain in her eyes mirroring my own.

"Herm—Hermione, I—I know I don't de—deserve it b—but if y—you c—c—could please for—g—g—ive me…" My teeth were chattering so badly it was hard to talk.

"You're frozen," she said, not looking at me. "You need to get those clothes off before you get hypothermia."

She watched for a minute as I struggled to undo my shirt with my icy fingers. But then, unexpectedly, she got up and helped me. She didn't say a word, and I didn't know what I could possibly say to rectify my unforgivable mistake, so I said nothing as well.

Once my soaking garments were on the floor, she crawled in to bed and I curled up next to her, shaking convulsively. She wrapped her arms around me, and slowly, her body heat began to defrost my skin and the shivers subsided. It was more than I deserved, but I selfishly took it. We both laid there—unmoving and unspeaking—for so long I almost thought she was asleep, only her breathing was jagged and uneven.

"We'll be all right, won't we?" I asked desperately. She didn't answer right away. I hoped she had drifted off; I couldn't bear it if she said no. Tears escaped the corners of my eyes and ran down my face. I could taste the salty-sweetness on my lips.

_Please say yes… Please… You are my life… my entire world… Don't take away my entire world._

"Yes Draco… We love each other. We have to be."

And we were more than all right. Our love emerged from the battle even stronger than before.

**Even now, I can feel your hair**

**Blow across my cheek**

**As we sit in one of two chairs**

"Good book?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. She was so immersed in the pages that she hadn't said a word in over two hours.

"Mmm hmm…" she hummed her reply. My legs were starting to go numb, but she didn't look like she planned on moving any time soon. Her feet were dangling lazily over the armrest, and her head rested comfortably on my shoulder.

"There are _two_ chairs, you know," I stated pointedly. She slowly lowered her book and glared at me.

"When you're pregnant with our eighth child you can sit on me all you want," she snapped back. _The woman had a point,_ I thought grudgingly.

She turned the page of her book and I settled in for a long night, but after a few minutes had passed I could feel her eyes on me.

"Don't think I don't know," she suddenly blurted out. I slowly turned to face her, innocence etched on every corner of my face, while her eyes studied me intently and her mouth tilted into a knowing sneer.

"You've lost me," I replied smoothly. She couldn't _really_ know. After all, Malfoy's were very good at covering their tracks.

"Let's see… remember almost eight months ago… when I asked you if contraceptive potions expired? Remember? I said I thought it tasted funny, and you said that it was probably just the wine from dinner. Then you kissed me and spelled my clothes off… so smoothly you'd have thought it was your plan all along."

Crap.

How could I forget? She was a Malfoy now too. The room became hot as she fixed me with her calculating stare, and I could feel the perspiration bead on my forehead, so I looked away and coughed to clear my throat.

"What are you getting at?" I asked slyly. I had a feeling I'd been caught, but I wasn't going to give it up too easily, just in case.

"_You_"—she whacked me with her book—"switched out my contraceptive potion! _You_"—she whacked me again, harder—"conned me into getting pregnant again!"

"Oww!" I yelled indignantly, rubbing my chest where her heavy book had made contact. It actually didn't really hurt that bad, I was just buying time while I thought of a response. Her glare and equally angry scowl were telling me "I'm sorry" just wasn't going to cut it.

"I—I—" I stuttered as an inner battle raged in my head. _To confess or not to confess?_

…_Not to confess._

"I mean, now why would I do that?" I asked simply. She pursed her lips and shook her head, as if saying: "You have got to be kidding me."

"Seven children with one set of twin boys. That doesn't remind you of anyone?"

"Umm…"

"Yes?"

"I'm thinking!"

"Think _harder_, Draco!"

"Umm… us?" I asked with a smile that was half faked-innocence, and half guilty-I've-been-caught-but-please-forgive-me.

"Very good, Draco," she sneered. "We have seven children, two of them are twin boys. What _other_ wizard family does that remind you of?"

"Weasley…" I mumbled under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Weasley! It reminded me of the Weasleys. I admit it. Happy?"

"No I am not happy!" she cried. Her voice shook with anger and something else… hurt? I knew she would be angry with me but I didn't want to hurt her. She even had tears in her eyes… Oh no… This had gone horribly wrong. My stomach sank to the floor.

"What's wrong 'Mione? I'm so sorry for—"

"What's wrong!? WHAT'S WRONG!? You tricked me into getting pregnant just so you could have more kids than Ron's family! You didn't want anyone comparing you to the Weasleys!"

She was openly crying now, and when I tried to wrap my arms around her to comfort her, she brushed me away. I was sure she would have jumped off my lap by now if it weren't for her large pregnant belly making mobility a struggle. Bloody hell I was an arse.

"Hermione, I'm so, _so_ sorry…" was all I could say. I tried to brush the tears off her cheek with my thumb but she moved her face away. I didn't know what else to tell her, so I just held her until she stopped struggling against me.

Finally she sniffed and looked up at me. I felt like ice water had just been poured down my esophagus.

"Do you even want this baby?" she asked me weakly.

"What?" I asked her, thrown off guard. "Of course I do!"

Her eyes told me she wasn't fully convinced, and I felt the need to elaborate.

"Look, one night me and Harry were talking… and drinking… and he just happened to mention the fact that we had the same amount of children as the Weasleys. So as a joke I said, 'Well I guess we better have one more'. I was only kidding, but then I couldn't get the idea of you being pregnant again out of my mind. Your big sexy belly… feeling the little kicks… the sweet baby smell… your breasts all swollen… It's been so long since we had one, and I knew you would just say we were too old to be parents again. So, I'm really, _really_, deeply sorry for going behind your back. But tell me, would you have agreed to have another child with me?"

"Well no, but—"

"And aren't you happy we're having one?" I interrupted her.

"Yes, but—"

"So didn't things work out for the best? Even if it took my conniving and sneaking and plotting to get to this point?"

I could see her mulling the information over in her head. I knew she wanted to stay mad at me and keep arguing, but I was hoping my puppy-dog eyes were working in my favor. At long last she took a deep breath that she released as a sigh of frustrated acceptance.

"Humph… Fine, I forgive you. But if you ever do something like this again I swear to Merlin I will put an end to your baby-making abilities the Muggle way."

I gulped and subconsciously squeezed my thighs together. Then I looked her straight in the eyes. "I promise to never do anything that would force you to jeopardize the life of my penis," I said with a playful smirk.

"Good," was her only reply. I couldn't help but to think that I was getting off rather easily, but then she spoke up again.

"You know, there are over 600 pages of this book left, and I don't plan on moving until it's finished, no matter how much you complain that your legs will need to be amputated for loss of blood."

I hugged her to me, nuzzling my face in her bushy hair and chuckling softly to myself.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

**Even now, I can feel your face**

**Resting on my chest**

**Wrestling for sleep**

**And failing at it**

"It's too quiet," she complained, sitting straight up in our bed and pulling the covers with her. I groaned sleepily as the cool air hit my chest.

"Love, it's two in the morning… You can send her an owl tomorrow if you're worried." Our youngest child—the product of a scheme of mine some eleven years ago—was off to Hogwarts. If it wasn't for the fact that she was every bit the strong-willed bookworm that her mother was when she first entered school, I would have been nervous as well. As it was, our daughter was smart and had common sense, and if that weren't enough, I had lectured her profusely on not making friends with troublemakers intent on saving the world. I chuckled and said, "As long as she doesn't make any friends like Potter, I'm sure she'll be just fine."

When she didn't lie back down or even contradict my dig at Harry, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to me. She snuggled into the nook of my arm and ran her fingers lightly across my chest. After a few minutes her fingers stilled and I closed my eyes again, but I still couldn't sleep. She kept huffing to herself and nestling her face against me to try and get comfortable. After ten minutes of this I secretly wanted to _Stupefy_ her.

"If it will allow me to get some sleep, you can send the owl now."

"That's not it," she whispered. "I know Ariella will be fine, she's got James, Albus, and Fred Junior all watching her every move."

I smirked contentedly. Our poor daughter wasn't going to be able to date until she was thirty if those three had anything to do with it.

"What is it then?"

"It's really silly… never mind," she mumbled. My brow furrowed in annoyance. If it was so silly then why was it keeping me awake?

"I don't believe that one bit," I grumbled back. She looked up at me with wide eyes and I squirmed as her hair tickled my bare skin. She reached up and ran a single finger along my jaw-line.

"Ariella is off to Hogwarts, and our other children have already graduated. It's just us now—us and our biological clocks tick-tick-ticking away… We're getting old, Draco." Her lids fell in embarrassment, so she didn't see my playful smile.

"What do you mean 'we'? _I'm_ not getting old, I'm getting distinguished," I said haughtily.

Her hand flew to the middle of my chest and roughly plucked a single grey hair from the sparse patch.

"Ow!"

"Even in the dark I can tell it's grey," she sneered.

"Oh really?" I asked, all signs of sleepiness evaporating as excitement took over. "Then I guess I'm too old to do _this…_" I pulled my arm out from under her and positioned myself directly above her in one smooth motion. Craning my neck, my tongue darted out to taste the bare flesh along her collar and I heard her breath catch in her throat.

"Draco—it's late," she squeaked.

"Oh right… sorry… Old bodies and curfews and bedtimes and all that…" I said, my eyes twinkling, unseen in the dark room. She let out a soft snort of laughter and I felt my cock twitch to life.

"So that probably means we're also too old for _this…_" I parted her legs with my knees and knelt between them. I then ran my hands up her thighs, catching the hem of her nightdress and pulling it along as my palms grazed her stomach and settled on the swell of her breasts. I could feel her heart race while my fingers circled her nipples, squeezing until they became hard and extra sensitive. Bending down, I took one of the little buds into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it before tugging gently with my teeth.

A soft whimper left her parted lips. I redoubled my efforts on her nipples and couldn't help but to grind my erection into her leg and release some of the pressure that was building. She began to arch into my mouth—wanting more—and I wanted more too.

I trailed wet, frantic kisses down her stomach, around her navel, to the gentle mound where a few days hair-growth prickled my lips. I pushed her legs further apart and she didn't fight me. Her hips actually rose slightly to meet my mouth. I had her right where I wanted her, but that didn't mean I couldn't have a little more fun on her behalf.

"Still think we're too old?" I whispered huskily as a toyed with her. She squirmed and moaned, itching for my tongue to make contact.

"No…" she breathed out. It was the signal I'd been waiting for.

… Some time later I collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, completely at peace.

That was how we stayed while time passed by the slowing beats of our hearts. At some point I rolled off of her and wrapped my arms around her protectively, nuzzling my face into her hair and breathing in her sweet scent.

"I love you, Old Draco," she whispered, her eyes drifting closed.

"I love you too, Old Hermione."

It's the little things I miss the most: her taste, her smell, finding her hair in the sink and spelling it out of the drain on a regular basis. Pouring only myself a glass of milk because she declined my offer, but then having her drink mine anyway. The warmth of her lips… the softness of her skin. The weight of her body over mine, and the way her nose scrunched up when she was deep in thought. Though I still love her with all my heart, though I know she still loves me, I miss hearing the words come off her lips. I miss saying them back and watching her blush.

My eyes had become wet, and I'm tired… so tired…

**Even now, I can see you sleep**

**I can see you dream**

**I can see you fly**

**And I always can find you again**

I lay on our bed facing Hermione's side. I can picture her there—so peaceful and angelic, breathing slowly and evenly with a slight smile on her face even as she sleeps—and I'm flooded with warmth.

So many memories…

My eyes become heavy and drift closed, as I whisper, "My Hermione, my love, I'll hold you soon…"

………………**..****And I **_**always**_** can find you again****………………..**

~*-The End-*~


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